


The Mirror, Cracked

by karrenia_rune



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, community: dark fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-21
Updated: 2011-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 04:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mirror!Bashir sees in his counterpart everything he could have been and wants to destroy it and maybe take his place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mirror, Cracked

Title: The Mirror, Cracked  
Fandom: ST: Deep Space Nine  
Author: karrenia_rune  
Characters: Mirror-Bashir vs. Julian Bashir  
Rating: Teen and Up  
Warnings: no warnings apply  
Prompt: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, MU!Bashir/Our!Bashir;

Disclaimer: ST: Deep Space Nine belongs to UPN, Paramount, etc as do all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned; they are not mine. Note: This was for the 2011 Multifandom Dark Fest Challenge and it may verge into the slightly AU territory…

 

"The Mirror, Cracked" by karrenia

It is said that there are instances when once we were blind but now we see, as if through a glass darkly. If anyone should happen upon this treatise and recognize the source of the quote.

I should be surprised but it will hardly make a dent in what I must do, what I should have done from the first. And if they do not; it hardly matters by now. I could care a less for the source of the quote then it aptness to my own situation.

In this life, in our situation one could not afford much time for the things that one does not have. In our universe we it is the humans who, in star-spanning galaxy are the trammeled and oppressed and our revolution seeks to bring that to an end. That being said, I have recently discovered that the Alliance possesses a technology that allows transit between this universe and another; perhaps a better one.

From what Simley has let drop the means of transit between universes function on a similar parameters to that of a transporter but with obvious differences. The fact that Simley and I don’t get along is not a fact lost one anyone especially us, but perhaps if I get him drunk enough it will loosen up his tongue.

All this to the side, you see, two universes, a means to an end. We have counterparts, perhaps a reflection of the outcome of what our lives might have been like had we the circumstances been altered or had we taken different paths.

Each of us aboard the floating heap of junk, Terrok Nor have a counterpart in that other universe.

My own counterpart is Chief Medical Officer Julian Bashir, serving aboard a Federation-run station orbiting the planet Bajor.

He is everything that I ever dreamed or aspired of being: intelligent, witty, handsome, funny, charming and well-respected in his chosen field. It is incredible how much I now need this. It goes beyond wanting or envy; into a territory where it frightens me when it does not excite me.

Let it be said that my initial impression of him was anger; at his naivety. Since then I have come to learn that anger without purpose, is simply anger.

At this late date I could not really tell you if my anger is now directed at myself, the circumstances, or the fact, that if I wish to implement the plan I have in mind it will take a great deal of work.

I have recently learned that it is possible to communicate across the dimensional barrier; transit is more, well, problematic.

I have recently heard that the Intendant Kira has a scheme up that tight-fitting sleeve of hers to travel into that alternate universe and take over that one as she has done to this one. If she wants to kill off her own counterpart and take her place, I see no reason to stop her.

I have my own reasons to cross over and take on my counterpart.  
**  
Julian Bashir had seen his reflection in the mirror many a time. However the scruffy, disheveled appearance with the dark brown eyes ringed with red from several sleepless nights in successions is not entirely unfamiliar. What brought him up short and a breath or two away from slapping a palm to his com-badge to report an intruder in his quarters; is the look of sheer fury on the reflection’s face.

A face so much like his own, that it is uncanny. He forced to bring his pulse and shallow breathing under control and demanded. “What are you doing here?”

The intruder who wore his face but not a blue Star Fleet Uniform, instead, he wore the mustard-yellow uniform of a crewman that appeared to have been forcibly ripped off and the left sleeve was higher than the right. The intruder’s face was also shadowed by a short beard. ”Can’t you guess? After all, if you haven’t figured it out by now than you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

Julian nodded and replied. “You’re my counterpart from the Mirror Universe.”

“Got it in one.”

“What do you want?” Julian demanded as he folded his arms over his chest a finger hovering near his com-badge.

“You. I want to become you.”

“For the sake of argument, how would you go about doing this?”

The mirror-Julian uncoiled from his loose-limbed reclining posture on the couch and sprung at the other man snarling in fury. “Don’t you dare patronize me!" Don’t you dare!” His hands were outstretched even as he leaped to the attack and even as he closed to within striking dance of the other man’s neck he was shoved backwards.

“Anger management much?” Julian remarked in a clinical, detached tone of voice. In the back of his mind he wondered if it was the shock of the transition between the two universes that had contributed to his counterpart’s fury, or if it was the fact that he had grown up in a terrible world, but the anger was real and at the moment that anger was focused directly on to his counterpart in this universe. On the heels of that he speculated, 'What do I do with him? Call security, and then have to explain why there are now two of me? Or leave him to Ezri as a patient? I doubt we’d be doing either of us a favor.

Aloud he replied: “Calm down.”

The Mirror-Bashir uncoiled from where he had landed and rubbed his chest where he believed he had sustained several bruised ribs. “I guess we’ve proved one thing here.”

“Which is?”

“That even the ‘good doctor’ will fight to defend himself when he must,” the other man offered up a lop-sided and wry grin before adding. “I was beginning to wonder. Do you do your own fighting or you going to call, what’s his name? Oh, yes, Odo?”

“Even in an alternate dimension, when did I become so jaded?” Julian muttered.

“I haven’t the foggiest, but in even a few more moments it won’t matter, because you will be dead and I’ll take over your life. Suiting action to words the counterpart reached into a pocket of his stolen uniform and withdrew a phaser, thumbing the trigger, aiming and firing point-blank.

With the ease of both training and recent experience in combat and the fluidity he had acquired from his genetic enhancements Julian avoided the blow and landed one intended to keep the other at bay but not do any permanent damage, for now it would seem that the danger would be contained.

The shot went wide and terminated into a nearby chair shattering it into flinders. The follow-up shots caromed around the room, all punctuated to the tune of the mirror-Bashir’s cursing.

In the midst of dodging yet another in a series of phaser shots Julian remarked. “Your aim is lousy, and even were this insane plan of yours to succeed, how did you plan on convincing the others that you’re really me?”

“Damn it! Don’t try and confuse the issue with details. I'm making this up as I go along!”

In his own mind the mirror Julian Bashir had to admit that he getting to this universe had been the most difficult phase of the plan. His fatal mistake, but correctable one, was in allowing the other man a chance to speak and room to maneuver. Cursing his luck and perhaps even his own lack of foresight, he continued to fire, hoping against hope that other man would make a fatal mistake of his own and he could then exploit it.

“Well, it’s pretty obvious!” snapped Julian and closed in from behind and applied a Vulcan technique he had recently learned, referred to as the “Vulcan nerve-pinch”, an effective but harmless means of rendering a person unconscious.

Regarding the other‘s lanky unconscious form with clinical detachment Julian remarked: “The Mirror Cracked, and so we see, as through a glass darkly. You almost had me going there, my friend, my enemy, my counterpart. It does leave me wondering one thing, however, if our places had been reversed, would I have attempted something of the sort, or not?

Julian shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know will we? I will have to inform Captain Sisko and we’ll send you back where you came from in the meantime. You’re just going to cool your heels.” Picking up the other man’s body Julian carried him over to a couch and set him down.

“I really don’t know how I am going to put this down in a report.”


End file.
